Out of the Ashes
by Hk96
Summary: Percy Jackson's life changed after the Giant and Titan War. Betrayed and banished he's on the run from a terrible enemy. A dark night, one wrong move and it's all up in flames. But what does his death have to do with Peter Aiden a man that has no memories of his past and his only mission is to serve Chaos. Secrets and deceit thrive as war approaches and not all can be trusted.
1. Chapter 1

Out of the Ashes

Prologue:

A single drop of water fell, flying, plummeting through the frigid air and then it collided. The leaf barely moved and soon enough the drop of water fell down the leaf. In a matter of seconds thousands of droplets followed. Animals stood silent, most were sleeping and the few who were up at the last rays of the sun, hid under the trees looking for shelter. All in all the forest was perfectly normal, every leaf was in place, every flower petal was in shape and it was peaceful as only nature could be.

Then the footsteps came, they weren't the soft leaping footsteps of a deer or the agile paws of wolves or even the wild steps of bears. These were loud, deafening against the quiet forest where the only sound was the rain. These footsteps rang through them all at first they were fast albeit clumsy before they slowed down becoming cautious. And whoever this person was, they were right to be careful. Far away at the entrance of the forest stood a dark cloaked figure.

He held an aura of authority, of danger, the shadows themselves attempted to reach him, thriving in his darkness. Yet despite all this he wasn't truly evil just a man in the wrong path. He reached down sensing the earth before smirking. The fight was about to begin, but truly his opponent stood no chance and in the end this would only be a skirmish. A hunter versus the hunted.

Deep in the forest the other man continued his fast walk unaware that with each step the cloaked figure was approaching. That he stood no chance against this enemy. Yet there was still confidence in his expression, confidence that faltered as he looked in the darkness. Their faces still haunted him. Every single one of their taunts, their jeers, their hateful words and expresssions ran through his mind. Traitor, that's what they had called him. Only he would never betray them, not even now. That's why he had rejected the deal, that's why he was being hunted, being forced to do things he didn't want to do, things he would never do. It's a shame that they all turned their backs on the hero once revered as greater than Hercules.

He froze when he heard the cloaked figure call his name. The voice sent a chill down his spine and the air became colder till it chilled him to the bone. He had less time then he had anticipated, which meant he would have to run. The man tore of in a sprint, it was risky, very risky but this was his only salvation. Out of nowhere he tripped and he looked down. Dark tentacles made out of shadows were wrapped around his ankles. He desperately tried to grasp at the roots of the trees, yet it seemed that even the forest was against him. The dark tentacles slowly crawled there way up his body all the while dragging him towards there master. They choked his throat cutting off all air flow and he was brought above their master.

The man clutched at his throat, but it was to no avail, in fact out irony in spite they seemed to get tighter and tighter with each try. The cloaked figure merely chuckled, humans always weak and frail. The man kept kicking and for a moment, an impossible moment he gained the upper hand but it only lasted for a couple of seconds. Inside the cloaked the man nodded, "You see, this is why I chose you, your determination makes it perfectly clear that you are adequate for the mission. It's such a shame that we had to do this the hard way." He nodded as if it was a trivial and childish action, like he actually believed this could be done in agreement. Only it couldn't and deep down this evil figure knew it. He released the man's throat, letting him fall to the ground.

The man glared up at the evil figure, "I will never join you! Never I would rather die than join you. I will always fight till the end, what you're doing us wrong and even if you do anything to me I will always oppose you."

"Unbelievable! After all that you've been through your still heart wrenchingly loyal. You truly are one of a kind, this is why I need you on my side. Oh won't you reconsider?" The cloaked figure wouldn't give up and the man continued to glare at him never backing down.

"No? So be it, little hero. You may not join me now but one day I make sure you will and maybe you'll end up just as great as me. Now after all of this I hope there is truly no hard feelings, the ends justify the means, one day you'll truly understand. Until then this is necessary."

The hero stared in confusion before realization dawned on him. He struggled with vengeance trying desperately to escape the inevitable. The cloaked figure grabbed a vial of liquid that truly looked like water only this made the hero struggle more. This liquid was forcefully pushed down his throat and with regret he swallowed. His eyes slowly started to become blank, his fight slowly stopped almost as if he was loosing the fire in him. The cloaked figure raised his hand, in it stood a beautiful dagger, jewels were inlaid in every way possible, the handle was a beautiful gold and it seemed much to glorious to cause injury. And it didn't, it never would because it served a different purpose.

This dagger was set and in a matter of seconds pierced the heart of a hero. He collapsed grasping at his chest while the cloaked man simply watched. The light in the Hero's green eyes was slowly dimming, his breaths became ragged and it would all soon be over. The puddle of blood grew around him, a halo of red and his black hair turned crimson. A thought sunk into him, he would die and no one would know, no one would care. But still he wouldn't give up.

"Not over... Revenge one day... Help... Chaos!" And finally on a dark night a hero spoke his last words as a chapter ended and a new one would begin. The cloaked figure pulled out he dagger, wiping off the blood. In a matter of seconds the body of Percy Jackson burst into flames.

All that was heard was a dark chuckle.


	2. Chapter 2

**Out of the Ashes**

**_Chapter One_**

The Awakening

The cloaked figure walked through the forest, pushing past the thick branches. Unlike before when the moon gleamed now the sun shone across the sky. In the place of darkness now stood light, the cloaked figure released a chuckle,

_How Fitting_. Underneath him the dry branches crackled so different from the other forest, this one was too fragile, to pliable, _How Ironic_. For months he had plotted, laying down each plan with precision and before that he had watched his pawns for months. Some might see it as cruel as an invasion. To this man, with little morals it was all for the greater good, they would thank him in the end. It was all worth it, and his brother's control from the universe would be eradicated and them everything would be how it should be. Under order.

The final step of the plan was all set. One move and the endless months of preparation would be worth it. One move and a new era would slowly begin. He released a low, sinister chuckle. In truth this man had somewhat good intentions, they were just maniacally twisted, through years of so many experiences. Now he could be considered evil, though this man didn't really like to see it as this. He saw himself as a man whom did what was necessary in a world of fools.

The man looked up, the sun was perfectly positioned right above him. Finally it was time, not a single cloud was around, the sky was pure blue. The lighter was clutched tightly in his hands, a small flame protruded from it; it was a beautiful blue for one that would cause so much destruction. He allowed himself one more smile—though if we were being honest it was more of a smirk than a smile—and let it drop.

It spun almost in slow motion the type you saw in the movies. He waited with a baited breath. It touched the ground in only a second, much too fast. Funny, how things that cause destruction always begin it so rapidly. For a moment, a sweet blissful moment in which you could've cheered nothing happened. And then you spoke too soon, the moment has evaporated and in its' place is a horrifying one. A small object can cause great destruction. _How ironic_.

The little flame appeared so small and delicate and could easily be put out. Slowly it grew as it touched the dry and dead branches. It spread so fast and it burned so high, like an inferno like a fire never before seen. The cloaked figure smiled once more everything was set and now all he had to do was wait for his brother's next move. And he would wait, he would watch. In a blink of an eyes he was gone. Yet the fire remained.

* * *

Colors, clashed a myriad of red, orange and yellow but if you squinted your eyes you could see traces of blue. The flames lapped up the dry plants, consuming them in an instant and slowly spreading. It gained great power until it roared and reached the sky. Smoke floated everywhere, one single breath and you were on your knees coughing up your lungs. Everywhere you looked grey was all you saw, of course there were different shades, a smoky grey so light it looked like a cloud or a grey do dark it consumed light. In this world, all you saw was grey but if you turned around, if you strayed too close you could see the fire.

Animals were long gone; they had fled deeper into the forest desperately trying to reach the other side and escape. For a while the fire was somewhat controlled and then it heaved. It was as if a switch had been flipped. The fire had been awakened. Miles a way deep in the forest a man lay in a clearing that would be smothered in grey in a matter of minutes. The man was motionless, resembling a dead body; only his chest moved up and down. He was alive. One breath was all it took and he opened his eyes.

* * *

The first thing he noticed was that he was alone. It was disconcerting to wake up in a forest with no one. What made it worse was the fact that in the space in his brain where memories were stored there was nothing.

The memories were gone, vanished into thin air. Like they were never their simply an illusion; a cruel prank that would never end. He released a sharp breath; his heart started to beat faster and faster. This couldn't be happening. But that was the root of the problem. This was happening and he had lost his memories. It seemed surreal and he couldn't help but wonder; what if he had a family? A girlfriend? A dog? His whole life was missing and he didn't know if it would ever return or if this was permanent.

He didn't know exactly how much time had passed since his awakening. Maybe seconds, minutes or even hours. Through it all he had sat there taking it all in. During this time the clearing was flooded with the smoke and then the door came flying. It was clear that fire was approaching, on the verge of appearing. He stood up dusting himself off and gazing at the ground covered in soot.

Just like when he woke up he released a breath. He was running in an instant never looking back. Dry plants cracked under his weight; it didn't matter soon enough it would all be consumed by fire. All of it, dead and gone. His feet were severed with pain, more likely than not they were bleeding. He could feel the blood leaving him with every step; leaving a trail behind him. Somehow no matter how impossibly fast he ran the fire was still on his trail and yet he was never truly harmed. The ground covered in soot never burned him and the airborne ashes never truly drove him to his knees. Only the fire truly harmed him yet at the same time a part of him wanted to seek out the fire. This part of him he quickly shut down, it was an instinct that would get him killed. Then there was this other instinct that told him that fire brought pain; like a long time ago he was burned by a fire that was hotter than this one could ever hope to be. A fire that scarred him and even now when no memories came it was still engraved into his skull.

With no other option he kept running, it was life or death. The fire seemed to roar with greater energy, sending blasts of flames that he had to dodge. Like playing dodge ball only it was a life or death situation. For some reason this twisted version of dodge ball seemed oddly familiar to him. But that was impossible he had to have more common sense the that.

Ignoring any other stray thoughts he kept running only stopping when reached the end of the forest.

For the past couple of hours he had dealt being memory-less perfectly. It helped than he had a mission to get out of the forest alive. Now however he didn't know where to go, his life was a mess, a complete chaos. Some supreme deity seriously had it out for him. What had he, Peter Aiden done wrong? He wanted to scream—He realized something, his name was, is Peter Aiden. And he had one mission, Find and Protect Chaos. At this moment these few memories weren't much, but it was enough. He is Peter Aiden and he had to find Chaos, his savior, at all costs.

Ahead of him, tauntingly stood a dirt road. It was straight and perfectly in order, unlike his life. With no other alternative he followed the path. He had no idea where it would take him only that this was where his journey began.

* * *

The coffin was lowered into the ground. In front stood a gathering of people, they stood waiting to see the body one last time. Surprisingly there was no true person filled with grief entirely but rather with happiness and satisfaction. The coffin was opened and the charred body was visible. Now there was no denying, a hero was dead. The shroud was placed once the coffin was shut and buried into the ground. Hours later everyone was gone and there were no signs of the previous gathering. All that gave the hint that this was a grave was a marker. On it written in beautiful writing was a name and date. The hero was dead and yet he wasn't. The coffin was empty, the body; an illusion.


End file.
